Monday morning on Twitter, an outrage roared as loud as the response to the Brussels bombings and the park attack in Pakistan. What could possibly capture the world’s collective disgust and disapproval more than those appalling tragedies?

Some kids were deprived of Easter eggs.

At a PEZ-sponsored egg hunt meant for young children on Saturday, a group of adults — reportedly parents — stormed an Orange, Conn., field and nabbed nearly 9,000 plastic goodies before the sugar-hungry babes could get their paws on ’em.

Some children were sobbing, reports said, and a little girl’s basket was broken. PEZ canceled the event and apologized, saying, “This was not something created to frustrate or make people angry. We only wanted to do good for the local community.” The company added that many of the kids still went home with free candy.

So what’s the problem? Tears were shed? A 4-year-old will cry when she runs out of string cheese, or is made to put on a shoe. Sobbing isn’t a strong measure of emotional wreckage with tykes. They didn’t get enough candy? Dentists everywhere, rejoice! The sticking point for most commenters, though, is what this barbaric behavior says about our society.

Were those adults in the right? Certainly not. Public panic is generally ill-advised, and the children’s physical safety could have been at risk, even though there were no injuries reported. Also, candy costs $3 a bag, you cheapskates.

But the side effect of the adults’ hilarious self-involvement is what’s essential. It taught the kids an important lesson: You can’t always get what you want.

Perhaps the grotesque narcissism of the newest generation of parents will actually be a boon to their spawn. In bygone years, mothers and fathers couldn’t lavish attention on Little Jimmy because they were too busy working tough jobs. So Jimmy got himself a paper route, played baseball, made friends.

The enterprising young buck went looking for his own happiness — instead of waiting for Mommy and Daddy to force-feed it to him. And now Big James is making six figures.

Today’s parents’ excuses are less noble. They’re occupied with pruning their Instagram accounts, figuring out how to bring boozy Sunday brunches into adulthood and greedily hoarding Easter eggs. But the effect is the same: The kids come second.

And that’s a good thing. Young people need to learn that everybody is first and foremost concerned about themselves — not you.

Will Saturday’s sweets skirmish send the sprouts into decades of ongoing therapy, leaving a traumatic stain that can never be erased? Probably not. Toddlers have the attention spans of Raisinets. But in the back of their minds, they’ll recall a time when they didn’t get their way, and the world didn’t end.